


The Honeymoon Phase

by Asphodelia



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Drunkenness, Except in Gotham, I think I wanna marry you, Las Vegas Wedding, Lee isn't really pregnant in this fic, M/M, hey baby, it's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:49:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asphodelia/pseuds/Asphodelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim gets drunk and makes questionable life choices. Correcting them proves even more difficult than he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Oswald bit his lip to stop the giggle from escaping. It would have been his third episode of random laughter since sitting down to breakfast and Gabe was probably starting to worry. Still, even as he managed to keep his giddiness from becoming audible, he was aware that he must be grinning down at his eggs like the lunatic some people believed him to be. He could not help it. 

The mafia king of Gotham managed a few more bites of his meal before his eyes caught once more on the golden band encircling his finger. His smile grew wide again and he found himself petting the ring like he was that disgusting grey creature from the Tolkien novels. This cheap piece of gold-painted costume jewelry was his wedding ring. Last night he had gotten married. 

Last night James Gordon had married him. 

It happened in a tacky 24 hour chapel with worn out pink carpets and ripped wallpaper. The lighting had been harsh and clinical at best, although it flickered and dimmed at random intervals. It had not been anything like where Oswald had imagined he would get married, years ago when he had still entertained the possibility that somebody might love him some day. However, when the universe gave you an opportunity to wed the object of your hopeless affections you did not turn it down because the room smelled odd. 

“Boss?” One of Oswald’s men had arrived with a small stack of papers. Oswald waved him over and nodded for him to put them down on the table. 

The first thing Oswald had done that morning, after he managed to tear his eyes away from Jim’s peacefully sleeping face on the pillow next to him, was send for annulment papers. Because of course this wasn’t going to last. Jim was engaged to Dr. Thompkins, and would never really want Oswald even if he weren’t. He was not sure what had gotten into Jim last night, besides a great deal of alcohol, but he knew he would be eager to erase the evidence of his lapse in judgment. 

That thought made Oswald frown bitterly for a moment, but he pushed the negative feelings down as best he could. Nothing had really changed since the day before, and yesterday he had long since made peace with Jim’s misplaced resentment of him. It only made sense that this would stir up some of the melancholy he had felt when he first realized Jim could never even like him as a friend, but he would just have to focus on the positives:

He was Jim Gordon’s legally wedded husband and, so long as he wanted their marriage annulled before anybody found out about it, Oswald _owned_ him. 

He would give Jim the annulment, of course, he wasn’t going to force the other man to stay married to him. He wouldn’t even ask Jim to do anything that offended his sense of morality in exchange (although that may be fun to play at). They were going to have a conversation, though, and Oswald did not intend it to be an easy one. For Jim. 

Oswald's rather inconvenient feelings regarding Detective Gordon that had left him at a disadvantage in their previous dealings. That ended today. Knowledge was power and by the time he was done chatting with Jim Oswald was going to have more than enough information to even things out. 

The key to marriage was open communication, after all. 

Gabe gave his boss a slightly concerned glance as he burst out giggling again, then went back to reading his paper. 

-

Hazy images swam before Jim’s eyes, none of them complete pictures. 

There was Lee’s smile, accompanied by the word ‘yes’ and a growing feeling of dread where there should have been joy. 

Then there was Harvey’s hand clapping him on the shoulder…

“So much for living vicariously through you after I’m hitched! It’s off to suburbia for both of us, eh Jimbo?”

There were Christmas lights, fireworks, and a happy light in Lee’s eyes that all seemed to blur into an overwhelming brightness that threatened to erase every shadow in Jim’s world. The holidays had been hard. They should have been this perfect beginning to Jim’s life with Leslie and on the surface they had been, but Jim had still fled. 

He could see himself from the outside as he ran from that brightness, ran to a place where people’s faces were bathed in shadow. It had been loud there, too loud to hear himself think. He had liked that.

There had been a glass in front of him filled to the brim with amber liquid, and then it was empty, and then full again. It should have drowned that irrationally growing dread, that feeling of being cornered, but instead of fading away all the thoughts and feelings he was trying to push aside just became louder and louder until the noise of the dive bar wasn’t enough to block them out anymore. 

Then, suddenly, somebody was with him. Oswald was the only figure in the swirling dreamscape that was completely in focus. He was the only thing that was real. He had touched Jim’s arm, a worried frown tugging at his mouth, and his touch had banished everything else. Lee, the baby, his life ceasing to be his own – it was all far off and blurry. Oswald was right there, where he always was and always would be. No amount of brightness would erase this blotch of darkness from his life. This would always be his. 

Jim saw the look of bafflement spread across Oswald’s face as Jim leaned against him, draped an arm over his shoulders, and ordered drinks for both of them. He saw the scrunch of his nose as he forced down the cheap swill, and then the snobbish upturn of his chin as he explained the merits of the next – more expensive – round that he ordered for them himself. 

Jim’s arm had never strayed far from Oswald’s shoulders, and at some point Oswald’s hand found the small of his back. Initially Jim had only leaned more heavily against Oswald and started gently stroking the back of his neck with his thumb. Any trace of hesitance in Oswald’s expression had vanished and he’d started looking at Jim with that adoring expression that had disappeared months ago. Jim hadn’t even known he’d missed it….

They talked and laughed about nothing for a while longer. Jim had no idea for how long. Then, Oswald’s hand had traveled lower and Jim had wanted –

A glimmer of rationality had broken through into Jim and Oswald’s private bubble. Jim could not want anything with Penguin. He had to leave. 

He had gotten all of two steps before he stumbled, the alcohol making him unstable. He found himself on his hands and knees on the sticky barroom floor. Soon there were pale hands gripping his shoulders, attempting to help him to his feet. Jim resisted, feeling that if he tried to stand he would just fall again. He did, however, look up into Oswald’s face. His pale green eyes were filled with worry, and hurt.

Everything was suddenly so obvious. Oswald had taken care of him again, like he had always tried to do. He had shown up and saved Jim from his own troubled thoughts. And, just like Jim always did after Oswald helped him, he had pushed him aside so he wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking they were close. But they were. Or, they should be. Because Oswald’s eyes before Jim had tried to leave had been so beautiful and now they looked pained, and Jim had done that, but Oswald was still right there trying to help him up. 

Jim started trying to stand but only managed to get into a kneeling position before his head started swimming and he had to pause, down on one knee in front of Oswald. He had not done this when he proposed to Lee. He had with Barbara. 

The man he had been had honestly loved the woman she had been and wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happy. Not because it was the right thing to do, not because of a baby, but because feeling like he had made her happy was better than making himself happy. There had been a time when the best thing he could do for his own soul was to attempt to listen while that vibrant blonde force of nature tried to teach him about art. It had not been obligation, it had been want he wanted. It had been everything he wanted, until it wasn’t. Jim wondered how he had lost that feeling, and how he was willing to settle for something less now. 

He cared about Lee - he wasn’t only with her because of the baby - but it wasn’t like with Barbara. Being true to her did not feel like being true to himself, no matter how much literal honesty there was between them. Telling her about things he had done would never make her understand them in any sense besides the clinical. Oswald did. Jim wasn’t sure how he even knew this since it wasn’t like they had talked about it, but Oswald _knew_ Jim. He knew him, and he accepted him, and Jim had never appreciated that before.

Why was he settling for less than what he’d had with Barbara when there was something even more intense already in his life? What would it be like to stop holding Oswald at a safe distance?

In that moment, knelt on the ground and staring up into Oswald’s eyes, Jim allowed himself to think for the first time that Oswald had been good to him and that he would like to reciprocate that. Maybe being true to Oswald would feel like being true to himself. After all, had he not been thinking earlier that Oswald was going to be that permanent shadow in his life? They were going to spend their lives together. 

“Jim?” Oswald was reaching for him again, trying to help him stand. Jim caught his hand.

“Marry me.”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?”

“…Yes.” 

Jim’s eyes snapped open and he was immediately wide awake. He barely had enough time to think that that had been a strange dream before the pounding of his hangover took over and he was burying his head under his pillow. No, not his pillow. His pillow was lumpy and had no case. This wasn’t his bed…

Well, of course it wasn’t. He had already sold his apartment and moved in with Lee while they shopped around for a place to live after they were married. That explained the puffiness of the pillow. Not the fact that both the pillowcase and the sheets were black and silken, though...Oh. Oh no. 

Jim scrambled into a sitting position and winced as he inspected his hand. That was definitely a wedding ring. In his drunken stupor he had actually thought it was a good idea to get married to a criminal – to the _king_ of Gotham’s criminals. What had possessed him to do that? He could feel the answer there, waiting off in a corner of his mind, but as it started to come to him Jim shook his head and forced himself to stand up. The important thing right now was to find a way to handle the situation. 

He was in his boxers and undershirt, which was a relief. He was fairly sure he would remember it if this mistake had been consummated, but it was good to be sure. Jim suppressed his hangover by focusing on finding his remaining clothes and putting them on. Somebody had folded them and placed them, along with his gun and cellphone, neatly on a bench at the end of the bed.

At the end of Oswald Cobblepot’s bed where they had spent their wedding night.

That thought, combined with his hangover, sent Jim running for Cobblepot’s ensuite.

-

Oswald was just finishing up his breakfast and considering starting on the paper when a very clearly hungover Jim Gordon stormed into his dining room. He was attempting to glare – of _course_ he blamed Oswald for all this – but the effect was rather ruined by his mussed hair and inside-out shirt. He also had a rather…green… look to him. Oswald had a pounding headache himself, but he was mostly managing to ignore it being that there were so many more delightful things to think about this morning. 

“Jim! Good morning, my dear friend. I didn’t expect you up this early so I already ate, but I’m sure Andre will be happy to –“

“No, I…No.” Jim shook his head. He still looked like he wanted to start yelling at Oswald, but he was clearly having trouble finding the right words. He must remember that this had all been his idea. 

To what extent did he remember that, though? Jim had been the one to propose, and the one to insist they go to the chapel (although he had said 'yes', Oswald had initially planned to just have Gabe drop Jim off at his apartment), and the one who had pushed for them to consummate their union. There had even been the breathy use of the word ‘please’. Oswald had resisted, somehow, because he had started to sober up by then and Jim was still so far gone. 

In any case, he was fairly sure Jim wouldn’t be looking him in the eye if he remembered that last part. 

Jim opened his mouth as if he had found those outraged words he had been looking for, but when he took a step forward to deliver them he stumbled slightly and had to brace himself on the back of a dining chair. Then, he seemed to need a moment to fight off his nausea. 

“Perhaps some coffee would help?” Oswald gestured for a cup to be brought out without waiting for Jim’s response. He genuinely did not like seeing Jim in this much discomfort, but he had learnt by now that fully expressing those kinds of feelings to the other man could only make him recoil (with the previous night as a shining exception). So, although he spoke the words he wanted to, Oswald was careful not to sound like he cared as much as he did. “You really should sit, Jim. We have much to discuss, but it can wait until you are feeling more yourself.” 

Jim sat down heavily in the chair he had been leaning on, at the far end of the table from Oswald. It was probably more out of necessity than because Oswald had invited him to. He wondered how badly it stung Jim that he could not hide the state he was in. It would have made Oswald furious, were their places reversed, and he knew Jim liked to pretend he was super human.

When Oswald’s man brought Jim his coffee accepted it and took a sip. Oswald had half expected him to ignore it completely. 

While Jim focused on his coffee, Oswald waved Gabe and the other man away. Gabe already knew what had happened the night before – he had been their witness – but it would probably be impossible to get Jim talking if there were anybody present besides the two of them. 

Jim was starting to regain much of the colour in his face simply from sitting and drinking coffee. Oswald stood and made his way towards a chair at Jim’s end of the table, not wanting to have the discussion he was about to insist upon from so far away. 

“Jim, I would appreciate it if you told me what you remember of last night.” Oswald kept his voice calm and even as he took a seat near Jim. 

Jim glared at him over the top of his coffee, looking much better than when he had first arrived despite still being quite ruffled. “We got married.” He had the nerve to say it with an accusatory edge. 

“That’s the headline, yes. What else?” Oswald had only planned to bring up the wedding and then transition to talking about the annulment and what he wanted to know in exchange (there were a couple classified operations in Jim’s military record that sounded particularly interesting), but the note of accusation in Jim’s tone struck a nerve.

Jim put his coffee down and rested his head on one of his hands, as if it was an effort to remember more. It probably was. “We drank too much and I –“ Jim closed his eyes, probably fighting off a wave of nausea. Oswald couldn’t help the pang in his heart; admitting that he’d proposed to Oswald literally made Jim sick. It could just be a coincidence, of course, but Oswald couldn’t help how it felt. He also couldn’t help being concerned and reaching out for Jim, despite the completely predictable wince it elicited.

“Don’t touch me.” It wasn’t snapped at Oswald so much as grumbled at his table. 

“That’s not what you said last night.” Oswald couldn’t resist saying.

Jim was out of his chair and almost out of the room before Oswald had a chance to process it. He stood in the doorway of Oswald’s dining room for a moment as if he were also baffled about how he had gotten there. The panicked look in his eyes told Oswald that he must have remembered how they had ended the night.

Oswald smiled wickedly, winked, and then burst out laughing as Jim practically ran out of his house. It seemed like they would have to talk about the annulment when he came back – as he would have no choice but to do. 

And yes, Jim running from him hurt. It was a dull, old, expected kind of hurt, though, and not that hard to ignore when everything was also so amusing.

-

Jim rushed gracelessly down the stoop of Penguin’s ritzy townhouse, as if escaping the building would also help him escape from the memories that were flooding back. He had not had sex with Cobblepot last night, but he had kissed him. A lot. Very thoroughly. Cobblepot had seemed inexperienced, and so Jim had said something about that. Then the mafia king had felt the need to…assert himself. 

Jim remembered the feeling of Cobblepot’s silk sheets against his back as he was pushed down, and the predatory look in his eyes, and how he had found it all very exciting. He had not had sex with Cobblepot, but he had certainly wanted to. He had never actually had sex with a man before, despite coming close a few times when he was younger, but he had felt ready and eager to try. Except, Cobblepot seemed to snap back to partial sobriety right about then. He had rolled off of Jim almost immediately. Jim had been disappointed and so he'd... 

_“C’mon, Oz…please?”_

He had been kissed soundly and told to go to sleep. 

He had begged a criminal – a male criminal who had once had an obvious crush on him – for sex and been denied. Obviously it was a good thing that he was denied, but –

Jim caught sight of the cheap ring that was still on his finger. He ripped it off and tossed it into the street, where it promptly rolled into a storm drain and was lost to the sewer. Throwing the ring away didn’t make him any less married to Oswald Cobblepot, but it did make him feel better for about a second. Shaking his still-pounding head, Jim decided he needed to find something to focus on. A case, or something. It was his day off, but maybe there’d been a murder overnight.

He pulled out his phone to find he had received 28 text messages since last night and his voice mail was maxed out. A lot of the messages would be Lee wondering where he had been the night before and why he hadn’t come home – why hadn’t he just gone home when Penguin had shown up? – but maybe there was also a new case he was being called in for. 

The first text message that popped up when he unlocked his phone was from Nygma. That was odd – they had not spoken more than they absolutely had to since Jim found out he was friends with Cobblepot (Harvey was loving that). 

_What connects two people, but touches only one? Congratulations =)_

The answer came quickly to Jim only because he had just tossed it into the gutter; a wedding ring. 

He frowned deeply. He had been assuming that Cobblepot would keep their marriage secret so he could use it as leverage. Instead, he had apparently decided to tell his buddy who worked closely with Jim’s fiancé. That didn’t sound like Cobblepot, but what other explanation was there?

The rest of the texts were from Lee, Harvey, and the Captain. As he read the worried, panicked, words yet another memory about the night before came to Jim. A contact of his with the Gotham Gazette had called about a fake classifieds ad they were going to use to bait a suspect. He knew it was late, but he had lost the ad they sent him before he could read it and needed Jim to tell him the wording if he wanted it in print the next morning…

Jim had been very drunk.

Half in denial about what he was remembering, Jim put his phone away and hailed a cab to the precinct. Once there, he got a paper from the nearby newsstand and took a deep breath before flipping to the classifieds section. It was about half way down the page - an announcement for the Gordon-Cobblepot wedding. 

Not only had Jim married the King of Gotham’s underworld, he had told the entire city.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed tries to be a good friend, and annulments are harder than you might think.

“Hey boss? You might wanna take a look at this.” Gabe came back into the dining room hardly a minute after Jim left. He offered Oswald his newspaper. Oswald tried to flip the page to the front – surely if something were important enough that Gabe would risk interrupting Oswald’s chat with Jim it was front page news – but Gabe stopped him with a hand on the paper and a shake of his head. 

Confused, Oswald scanned the page Gabe had the paper open to – the classifieds. Then he saw it.

“…Oh.” That complicated matters. 

-

“You are never drinking without me again.” 

“…Agreed.” 

Harvey had greeted Jim with a shoulder squeeze and something doughy, greasy, and altogether disgusting which he had eaten anyways. It couldn’t turn out to be the worst decision he had made in the last 24 hours, right? Actually, it had pretty much killed his nausea. He should have known Harvey would be able to cure a hangover. 

They had gone up to the captain’s office after that. Barnes looked exasperated, and…sympathetic? He clearly found the whole thing a ridiculous waste of time, but he did not seem to be angry with Jim. 

“We’ll have the paper print a retraction tomorrow. Of course we’ll ask them to give up whoever bought the space – seems a bit juvenile for Penguin – but embarrassing as it is I’m sure you see why we can’t devote too much attention to a prank. ” Barnes thought it was all a lie. The captain may have suspected Jim of working with Cobblepot at one time, but it was a big jump from that to wedding bells. It really only made sense that Barnes, and probably others, would assume it was a prank. 

Jim felt like he should be relieved, but he wasn’t. It certainly made things easier in the short term if nobody believed it, but now he had to decide whether or not to reveal the truth…Not that it was really much of a decision. Of course Jim couldn’t tell his police captain that he got drunk-married to public enemy number 1. Still, if there had been no announcement in the classifieds then Jim’s hiding it would just have been a secret. Now it was a lie. 

Jim and Harvey were out of Barnes’ office quickly.

“Harvey, you don’t…” Jim whisper-yelled to his partner, trying to think of a way to ask whether Harvey also thought this was just some kind of joke without revealing that it wasn’t. 

Then again, Harvey had automatically greeted Jim with a comment about drinking and a hangover cure. They hadn’t spoken before he got there and there would have been no reason for Harvey to think Jim had been drinking unless he saw what he thought was evidence of it. 

“Oh, I know how much of an idiot you can be.” That answered that. “Come on, we’re going for döners.”

On one hand, Harvey was going to try to help. He was in Jim’s corner now, just like he always was. On the other hand he was also going to make Jim explain himself. That’s why they were leaving the precinct. Jim honestly didn’t know what he was going to say – he couldn’t explain his actions to himself, never mind Harvey. He didn’t even have a clue. He just remembered there had been this strange, inappropriate, feeling of _rightness_. Apparently his instincts failed him when he was drunk.

Except, no, they generally didn’t. He was not some adolescent kid who had been drinking for the first time ever. He knew what he was like when he was drunk, and he had always been able to trust himself not to do anything too stupid. He had gotten into a couple fights when he was younger that he wouldn’t have sober, but they were fights he still would have wanted if he hadn’t been drinking. He had certainly never hooked up with anybody he wasn’t still attracted to in the morning. Not that he had actually gotten to hook up with Cobblepot. Not that ‘gotten to’ were anything close to the right words –

“Jim!” Leslie rushed over from across the room. She seemed more distressed than she should have been about a prank classifieds ad about her fiancé….but then, she knew Jim had been out all night.

Jim frowned. Not only had he not called her that morning to let her know he was okay, he had arrived at the precinct and talked to both Harvey and Barnes before the woman he was supposed to marry. He hadn't even planned on going to talk to her – he had been about to leave.

Oh, and he had gotten married to somebody who wasn’t her. He should probably feel worse about that than not saying ‘hi’. 

“Did you get my messages?” Strangely, Lee actually looked sort of guilty herself.

“I haven’t listened to them yet. I’m sorry, I should have called.”

“No, I know why you didn’t. I wouldn’t have called me either. Can we talk?” Lee nodded slightly in Harvey’s direction, implying that she wanted to speak to Jim privately. That sounded better than the soul-searching that would be required to try explaining the night before to Harvey. 

“Yeah, of course.” They started walking towards Lee’s office, and that’s when Jim spotted Nygma coming towards them with a smile and a cellphone. 

“Good morning Dr. Thompkins! Can I borrow Detective Gordon for a moment?”

“This really isn’t a good time, Ed...”

“He’s talking to Dr. Thompkins right now…..She said it’s not a good time. She looks upset….Alright, I’ll try again.” Nygma did not move out of their path, he just stood in front of them talking on his phone. His smile had faded into more of a nervous grimace. “I imagine you must have a lot to discuss after last night, but that’s also why this is so urgent. Detective Gordon?”

“I’ll deal with him later.”

Nygma gave Jim a look like he thought he was being inappropriate, then went back to his telephone conversation with Penguin. 

“He says he’ll _talk to_ you later,” He listened for a moment, then huffed. “No, I did not mean that as a euphemism, I was just pointing out that his wording was rude…” Nygma held the phone away from his head for a moment, wincing. “He wasn’t THAT rude….No, I’m not saying that….Because I like Dr.Thompkins!...Oh, um, they’re just walking past me now…Alright, fine…”

Jim and Lee had decided to just keep walking around Nygma pretty much in unison, but they still weren’t out of the precinct’s main room before Nygma was suddenly calling after them. He looked extremely uncomfortable, but it wasn’t stopping him.

“James Gordon, this is no way to start a marriage!” Jim and Leslie both froze in their tracks and turned to stare at their odd coworker, as did the handful of uniformed cops in the room. “When your spouse calls, you take his call. Finish playing with your mistress and get on the phone NOW…..I’m sorry Dr.Thompkins, those were not my words.” 

Nygma scurried off back to the lab before anybody had a chance to react. Then there was some snickering from the uniforms, who must have already seen the ad and loved seeing Jim ‘holier than thou’ Gordon knocked down a moral peg. Leslie just shook her head sadly and kept on walking to her office. Jim followed. 

“I’m so sorry.” Lee apologized the second the door was closed behind them. 

“Why?” As far as Jim knew he should have been the one apologizing. 

“Please don’t do that, Jim, you know I understand why it was wrong.”

“Lee, if you did…something…because I was out all night without calling you, we can just forget it. It’s my fault. I married Penguin last night, so I can’t judge.”

“Wait, you actually married Penguin?”

“I was really drunk.”

Jim expected Lee’s attitude to change now, for her to get angry. She didn’t. 

“I’m sorry....” Lee sat down heavily in the chair behind her desk. “I mean, I knew you were probably drinking, but I didn’t think…”

“…Lee?”

“I really thought I was pregnant when I first told you, Jim. I hadn’t done a test yet, that’s why I didn’t tell you before then, but I felt so sure. Once I knew I was wrong I wanted to tell you right away except it was Christmas, and then New Years, and then…I didn’t know how to say it. I’m sorry.”

“…There’s no baby.” Jim had never actually sorted out his feelings regarding the baby – he had actively tried not to, in fact – but he had assumed that when it came he would be happy. Now he supposed he should be angry with Lee for keeping this a secret, but he wasn’t. There were little pockets of relief and loss waiting in the peripheries of his mind, but neither of those feelings jumped out and took hold of him. 

“You didn’t know? I thought you overheard me talking to my mom about it.”

Jim shook his head in reply.

“Then what made you want to go out drinking alone last night?” That was why Lee had only felt more guilty when she found out he had actually married Cobblepot – she thought her lie had driven Jim to get drunk and behave self-destructively. 

“I don’t know, Lee, everything was just….it was a lot.” Jim’s words sounded vague and inadequate to his own ears, but Leslie looked him steadily in the eyes and nodded like they made perfect sense. 

“Are you…relieved, then?” She sounded like she was trying very hard not to sound sad. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Me neither. I do want to be a mother, but…” Jim wasn’t sure how to take that. Had Lee’s second thoughts been about the timing, or about Jim himself? “Maybe we both need some time to figure out how we feel.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” The question wasn’t indignant or hurt, Jim just honestly couldn’t tell.

“No, I just think we need some time apart.” Did that mean she was _temporarily_ breaking up with him? Jim didn’t really care to get into it. 

“Alright.” 

Jim left the M.E’s office feeling confused and strangely numb. The crime lab was visible through a window from where he was standing outside Lee’s door and he could see Nygma trying to run tests on some soil samples with one hand while the other held his cellphone up to his ear. 

Jim pushed his conversation with Lee to the back of his mind and opted to deal with the things he actually could. There wasn’t anything he could do about the situation with Lee, but he could take actions to erase last night. Annulments were quick, right?

Jim entered the lab without Nygma noticing – he was completely focused on his work. He was technically on the phone again, but it seemed like whatever Cobblepot was saying didn’t require much of a response. Jim easily grabbed the phone out of his hand.

“I’ll meet you at the courthouse in half an hour to get this annulled.” 

“You took out an ad!? Do you have any idea wha-“ Jim hung up. Nygma took his phone back and actually turned it off.

“Is annulment really the only course? Penguins mate for life, you know. I understand that this publicity is bad for both of you, but there must be a way to manage it.”

“Eh, I don’t think so Nygma.” 

“That’s a shame. I was so happy for you two this morning.” 

Jim didn’t know what to say to that.

“You know, Detective Gordon, Dr. Thompkins is the only person who has always been nice to me. No warming period, just kindness. You don’t need to worry that I’m mad at you for hurting her, though. I found the pregnancy test in her trash bin – I know she hurt you too. And you’ve also been nicer to me than most of the brutes we work with.” 

Nygma was smiling in his usual way, as if trying to be reassuring. 

“Uh, yeah, that’s good to know.”

“Mr. Penguin is my best friend, though, and you are an encumbrance.” Nygmas was still smiling, and Jim was no longer sure ‘reassuring’ was the right word for it. 

“…what?”

“A blindspot - a weakness if you will. If the tradeoff is that you make him happy I cannot object, but if he is made to feel more the opposite side of that blade then perhaps you should too.” ‘Reassuring’ was definitely not the right word. 

Jim blinked several times, then turned to leave. 

“I’m cold and sweet, but I’m not ice cream. What am I?” Nygma called pleasantly after him. Jim didn’t turn around. 

“What’s up?” Harvey was on Jim the second he was back in the main room of the precinct. He was starting to feel like he really needed some time alone. 

“Lee’s not pregnant, and she might have broken up with me but she won’t call it that.” 

“Ouch.” 

“I also got some version of the ‘if you hurt my baby sister’ speech from Nygma about Penguin.” 

“I would actually pay to hear that.” 

Jim rolled his eyes and Harvey laughed.

“Döners?”

“No, I just want to get to the courthouse and get this taken care of.”

“I’ll drive you.” 

-

The day had started off so wonderfully for Oswald. He had all these amazing memories of an evening spent with Jim, they were married, and he was going to get to hold that marriage over him as a bargaining chip. The entire city having heard about their wedding put a dampener on that.

He could no longer use the threat of people finding out against Jim – everyone had already heard. Of course most people wouldn’t believe it, not at first. If anybody spotted them together at the courthouse today it would probably raise suspicions, though, and the longer they remained married the more likely it was somebody would be able to confirm it.

It probably didn’t help that Oswald hadn’t taken off his wedding ring yet either, but he still wasn’t going to until their marriage was actually annulled. 

People knowing about their marriage was worse for Jim, in the sense that there was nothing he could do to manage the information. He could deny it until he was proven a liar, and that was it. It was not a good situation for Oswald either, though.

It could have been, of course, if he’d had more control over how it came out. Or if their marriage were…real. Jim couldn’t manage the information because nobody on the right side of the law would believe he was having any sort of ‘positive’ influence on The Penguin. Perhaps when he had just been a snitch, but not now. Their association could only taint Jim and cause him to lose credibility. This was unfortunate in the sense that Oswald wouldn’t be able to use Jim’s position, but fortunate in that – if it were managed right – it wouldn’t have any adverse effect on Oswald’s power. If Jim were thought to be a dirty cop, if he was thought of as _Oswald’s_ , then that was fine. 

If Oswald was thought to be in a relationship with a cop he had no influence over then that was terrible, though. It made him look weak. Nobody on the right side of the law might believe it, and he could take steps to ensure that nobody with a brain on the wrong side of it did either, but it was still a tool for rivals to use against him. It would not be difficult for one of his higher ranking subordinates to convince the weaker minded individuals on his payroll that this rendered him an unfit leader. 

With that potential headache looming over him the fun Oswald had been having earlier in the day was nearly spoiled. Nearly. It was hard to completely write off a day where he had woken up with his face buried in Jim Gordon’s neck. 

Oswald popped the collar on his long winter coat up higher as he continued to wait for Jim in front of the courthouse. He was wearing his bowler hat too, and would have worn sunglasses if the dreary weather didn’t render them overly suspicious. It really was best he and Jim weren’t spotted together today.

He was not waiting long. Jim approached him soon enough, and Oswald couldn’t help frowning when he saw that he had brought Bullock with him. 

“When did you have time to take out an ad? It was the middle of the night, and you were with me the whole time.” 

“The paper called me about something. Let’s just get this over with.” 

“When did they call you? I think I would remember you taking your tongue out of my mouth to answer your phone.” 

Jim looked extremely uncomfortable, which was less than half the point. Bullock looked like he regretted accompanying him, and that was more the main goal. 

“It was when I went to the bathroom.”

“Oh, so before we were actually married, then? Someone was awfully sure of himself.”

“…I’m gonna wait in the car. Good luck Jimbo.” Perfect. 

Oswald smiled triumphantly at the small victory and Jim just shook his head. 

“Well then, dearest, I believe we have business to attend to?” Oswald offered his hand to Jim, who scowled and continued on into the building. Oswald snickered and followed him.

No, even with the unexpected complications, today was still an overall good day. 

-

“What do you mean you won’t sign?” Oswald had taken them to the office of a judge who was on his payroll intending to get her to sign off on his and Jim’s annulment, but the elderly woman was refusing to do so.

Jim was leaning awkwardly against the wall near the door. He had apparently not realized that annulments usually take months and that they would need to rely on Oswald’s connections to jump the queue. 

“I had a lot of respect for Don Falcone because he had a lot of respect for the system.” Jim scoffed at the word’s coming out of the corrupt judge’s mouth. “He would never have asked something so frivolous of me.” 

“I don’t pay you to pick and choose which of the tasks I assign are worthy of your consideration.” Oswald had a brief, but vivid, fantasy of jumping across the desk and choking the judge. 

“No, you pay me to help ensure your business runs smoothly, and I will continue to do that. Good day Mr. Cobblepot, Detective Gordon.” The old lady judge dismissed them and went back to her paperwork.

Oswald had not anticipated that the judge might say ‘no’, and he realized that he had no recourse. He could not carry out any of the usual threats that might keep a judge in line because he was not prepared to lose her as a resource over something that, as she had pointed out, was not truly a matter of business. 

Throwing the judge a murderous look he could not back up with actions, Oswald stormed out of her office. Jim followed a bit behind.

“The other judge I was considering asking is out of the country. He’ll be back in a month, which is still three months faster than filing through the official channels.” Oswald explained before Jim could ask.

“So, what now?”

“Vienna? I don’t think I’d enjoy a beachy honeymoon.” Oswald drawled sarcastically, still stomping his way down the hall at an impressive speed considering his leg.

“You’re saying that until that judge gets back we’re just going to have to stay married?” Jim was walking quickly himself to keep up.

Oswald stopped suddenly and spun before Jim could slow down, resulting in the sharing of personal space. Oswald smirked and pecked him quickly on the cheek.

“I’m afraid so, dear.” Oswald said mockingly before leaving Jim standing, bewildered, in the courthouse hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> I'm going to try to write as much of this as I can before Monday night, when I'll start feeling unfair for writing Lee as 'not really pregnant', and potentially become distracted with the new canon plotlines.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s silly to think that life doesn’t change after marriage, Jim."

Life seemed to go back to normal for about a week. Between Lee and Nygma dealing with anything forensic had gotten awkward, but that was really the only change. Barnes took care of having the paper print a retraction – just a small note, so that hopefully people who had missed the ad in the first place wouldn’t be made aware of it after the fact. Jim didn’t feel good about lying to the captain or letting him lie to the Gazette, but he didn’t see how he had much or a choice. 

So, Jim resolved not to think about his ill-advised marriage until it was time to get it annulled. This was not difficult. Him and Harvey were trying to catch a serial killer, and that tended to be a good distraction. The case was the same one Jim was supposed to place the fake ad for and it was proving fairly tricky. The ad Jim was supposed to place, that he and Harvey actually had placed the next day, was a ‘missed encounter’, i.e. ‘Mainstreet near Abbot, Sunday afternoon. I was the brunette with the sad eyes and the polka dot umbrella. You were the man in the denim jacket who made me smile'. The killer they were hunting seemed to be picking out the sappiest ones and placing ads in reply as if he were the person the original ad had been intended for. The theory was that he was reacting badly when the women pointed out he was not the person she had been trying to contact. 

Baiting the killer with an ad hadn’t worked, though. Neither Jim nor Harvey were particularly good at being sappy. So, while they kept posting ads just in case, they focused more on picking out ads they thought might attract their guy and watching for replies where the person replying tried to arrange a meeting. They surveyed three potential meetings between ‘missed encounters’ posters that week. One had clearly been between two people who were actually looking for each other, one had clearly been an honest mistake where they had parted amicably, and one woman was stood up. Jim and Harvey were no closer to finding the killer, but at least Jim’s mind was occupied at work.

He didn’t have much of a chance to stew over things outside of work, either. He was staying on Harvey and Scottie’s couch while he and Lee were ‘spending time apart’. It was perpetually noisy and cluttered at Harvey and Scottie’s place, so there was a lot to be distracted by. Scottie kept trying to get him to talk about his feelings and, while he had no intention of ever taking her up on it, he believed her when she said she wouldn’t try to judge or analyze. He appreciated the offer, even if it was made more frequently that he would have liked. 

It was really only when he was trying to fall asleep that his mind would drift back to that night. Throughout the week he had remembered more and more of the evening, and more details about the parts he only remembered in a general sense initially. He didn’t let himself pour over it all, he would have gotten up and tried to get some work done before he did that. Still, if images of the affectionate gaze and elated smile Cobblepot had worn throughout their wedding ceremony were held in his mind as he drifted to sleep... well, it wasn’t anything he revisited in the mornings.

-

Oswald’s first week of marriage was stressful. It had been fun teasing Jim about their union, and he still smiled every time he caught sight of his wedding ring – which he had opted to move to a different finger, but still wore – but overall things had been hectic. 

First, he had decided to neither confirm nor deny rumors of the marriage. If he denied it and the truth came out it would provide fuel for those who would use it as an example of his weakness. If he confirmed it then Jim’s obvious lack of interest in him and their upcoming annulment could be used the same way. It was best to keep everything ambiguous. 

That was easier said than done. Several of his lieutenants had asked – assuring him in overly friendly voices that they were happy for him if it were true and that of course they didn’t think his sexuality had anything to do with his ability to lead them – and he had managed to dodge all of their questions without making a scene of it. Perhaps he found the matter too ridiculous to respond to, perhaps if it was true he just didn’t consider it anybody else’s business; there was no way of knowing which from the way he fielded the questions. By Thursday he was fairly sure the direct inquiries were done with, but people were still whispering behind his back. He would have loved to confirm everything and start punishing anybody who had a problem with it, but that wasn’t practical. 

There was also the matter of the judge. It irked him to no end that he couldn’t do anything about her insubordination, so he had started putting out feelers for new judges he might replace her with. Her reasoning also troubled him. It occurred to Oswald that perhaps leaving Don Falcone to his peaceful retirement, as he had initially had every intention of doing, wasn’t his best course of action. Too many people – especially government officials – were still more loyal to him than to Oswald. Oswald didn’t think he was coming back, but if he were to then there was just too much of his operations’ infrastructure still in place. He would need to be found and handled in some way that could be blamed on his age. 

So, the week had been stressful, but no matter how annoyed he got with certain aspects he had no regrets. Now when he imagined Jim next to him at night he could comfort himself with the knowledge that it had been real. He didn’t torture himself wondering whether their night together meant anything to Jim – of course it didn’t – but it had to Oswald and for now that was enough. He was becoming increasingly aware that this was only going to hurt him in the long term, but for now the memories were still more sweet than bitter.

He could think about exchanging vows with Jim and focus on how he had only had eyes for Oswald, on how sincere his ‘I do’ had sounded, without dwelling on how empty it had all actually been. For now. Mostly. 

-

The weekend went by extremely slowly for Jim. He actually had it off since there was no work to be done on the case aside from trying to write ‘missed encounters’ ads (their killer only seemed to strike mid-week, so they suspected he worked long hours on the weekends) and he didn’t have much to do except wish Cobblepot’s more reliable dirty judge was back in town. He knew getting the annulment wouldn’t actually erase what had happened, but he still felt like it would be easier to ignore the memories when he was no longer Oswald Cobblepot’s husband. 

He was glad when Monday came because work was sure to provide distractions. He didn’t have to think about how happy he’d been when Cobblepot had said ‘yes’ if there was crime to fight instead. Harvey had commented that it should be illegal for anybody to be as excited as he was for the weekend to be over.

Jim’s enthusiasm for the work week was killed the second they arrived at the precinct and he saw the look of disappointment on Barnes’ face. 

He knew. 

Or, he pretty much knew anyways. His knowledge was only based on rumors and Lee’s reaction when he brought it up with her. She had not confirmed anything intentionally, but Barnes was confident he had read her awkwardness regarding his questions correctly. Still, he gave Jim one last chance to deny everything and offer an alternative explanation. He could only say that he had been overly inebriated and was in the process of dealing with it. 

“Alcohol doesn’t explain this, Jim. People get drunk and marry strangers all the time, sure, but not people they personally know to be psychopaths.” 

“I don’t know what to say to that, sir, I was very –“

“You have a history with Cobblepot.”

“…Yeah. You could say we have history, I guess. But not that kind of history.”

“Not unless you’ve had a few?”

“We’re getting it annulled.” Jim spoke with a harder, more defensive, edge than he intended. He could see where Barnes was trying to steer the conversation and it was ridiculous. 

Barnes looked at him like he was missing the point. 

“Badge and gun, Gordon.”

“Sir!?” Yes, getting drunk-married to a criminal was stupid, but Jim had not thought his job was on the line. It wasn’t like it was the kind of mistake that hurt anyone.

“You’ll get them back once the annulment goes through. I can’t have the husband of such a high value target on the force, though. It’s an embarrassment, and it puts you and anybody working with you in elevated danger.”

Jim tried to argue that that was only a technicality and that hardly anybody believed it anyways. Barnes countered that if he knew then others would too soon enough. He didn’t seem to find the ‘technicality’ comment worth discussing. 

Jim handed over his gun and badge and left the precinct, ignoring the jeering from some of the dirtier cops still left on the force after Barnes’ initial sweep. He didn’t have any idea where he was going or how he was going to spend the rest of the day after he was suspended, but he was angry and he knew it was for the best that he got far away from Barnes before he said something regrettable. Harvey came after him and called for him to wait up. He was on the steps of the precinct when he called to Jim, who was half way down the block, and it was purely by chance that glancing back at Harvey caused Jim to see the sniper in one of the windows across the street. 

The shot came, but it was rushed and poorly aimed. The sniper knew he’d been seen and had panicked. The shot might not have hit even if Jim hadn’t ducked behind a nearby car. 

Harvey and a couple uniforms gave chase. Jim tried to as well, despite Harvey yelling at him to ‘get his ass back inside’. Barnes himself got in Jim’s way and threatened to rethink how temporary his suspension should be if he would chase an armed suspect without his own weapon, or the authority that came with his badge. In the end Harvey and the others weren’t able to catch the guy. Jim suspected one of the uniforms – Ludlow – might have played a hand in that, but didn’t say anything. He had no proof, and it was hard to accuse people of being in bed with the mob while he was in his current predicament. 

Since the sniper clearly wasn’t very good and attempting to shoot a cop in front of the precinct was just stupid the theory was that this was the work of a young, inexperienced, criminal looking to shake things up a bit. There was very little chance of the attempt on Jim’s life actually being about Jim, despite the fact that he had a rather high profile for a police officer. If a cop was executed the order either came from the Don, or it was an independent contractor. This wannabe assassin wasn’t skilled enough to have been hired by anybody (not that Jim would have thought Cobblepot had put a hit out on him), so he must have been acting alone. The goal was probably just to throw Cobblepot off his game. 

Jim was questioned about what he’d seen of the sniper and afterwards he was eager to leave. He did not want to linger around the precinct when he had just been suspended, and he wasn’t particularly concerned about the sniper trying again. It wasn’t that he didn’t realize he was in danger, he just didn’t see how this danger was any worse than the danger he was frequently in at work. If the guy was dumb enough to try again Jim could take care of himself.

The biggest problem created by the shoddy attempt on his life was that he was out of a place to live.

Harvey had dragged him out for the döners they hadn’t had one week earlier and told him apologetically that maybe his and Scottie’s sofa wasn’t the best place for him while there was an assassin after him. 

“If I still lived alone I wouldn’t even think it, but with Scottie…”

“Its fine, Harvey. I’ll figure out something else.” Jim was low on ideas, but didn’t see the sense in burdening Harvey with that. Off the top of his head he thought he might spend a night or two in a hotel, but he couldn’t afford that for long.

“About that, I was thinking…That punk thought taking you out would mess with Penguin, but taking out someone the ‘king’ doesn’t want dead is a risky move. He must’ve either been an even bigger idiot than he seemed, or have been pretty confident he could get away with it.”

“It’s hard to get away with executing a cop, even in Gotham. But I see what you mean. All the guy would have to say was that he shot me for being a cop, or over some case, and Penguin could still get mad because nobody ran it by him, but making too big a deal of it would just make him look…weak.”

“Exactly. Like he was mooning over a cop. And you know, the guy today was stupid for trying when and how he did, but now that Barnes took your badge some smarter thugs with better aim might start getting ideas too. They got all the excuses about you being a cop, without the higher stakes of killing a cop,” Harvey laughed bitterly. “Barnes probably thought he was benching you to protect you.”

“I’m not leaving town; we have a killer to catch,” Jim wasn’t going to stop working the Classifieds Killer case just because he was suspended. “I’ll just have to deal with it.”

Harvey frowned and took a big bite of his döner, as if considering whether he really wanted to say what he was about to say. “Or, you know… There’s a reason mafia wives live to be old ladies.”

“Don’t.” Jim didn’t like where Harvey was going with this, and he wasn’t even sure that what he’d just said was true.

“I’m just saying – your nuptials are what’s putting a target on your back, but that’s just because nobody who thinks they happened thinks they’re real. If they did then it would only seem normal for Penguin to completely crush anyone who looked at you funny, and their cousin.” 

“I should date a gangster so he can beat people up for me? Do you hear yourself?”

Harvey sighed and actually kicked Jim under the table. “I’m saying that letting people think there’s something going on could keep a bullet out of your head. That’s all.” 

Jim just gave Harvey a look like he was crazy and changed the subject. It was ridiculous and not even worth arguing about. But, when Jim left the döner shop, he didn’t head for any hotel. 

-

“Where’s Hanson? I was under the impression he was joining you on this?” Oswald had only just learned about the attempt on Jim’s life, but he still tried to stay calm as he questioned a middle aged enforcer. The man was about to go collect a debt for him, but he was supposed to be taking a younger henchman he had been training and the boy was missing. 

“Probably playing one’a those video games. S’what he’s always doin’.” Oswald scowled. Ed had tried to get him to play some type of video game not long ago and Oswald really didn’t see the point.

“Perhaps a break from his hobby would provide some perspective. When he turns up again, break his thumbs.” Oswald was not in a lenient mood. 

“Boss?” Gabe stuck his head in the room and Oswald waved the enforcer off. “Gordon’s here to see you.” 

“Send him in.” Oswald was baffled by the visit, and also relieved. His sources had already informed him that Jim came out of the incident that morning completely unharmed, but it was still nice to be able to see it with his own eyes.

Jim entered the room looking angry, as he usually did when he had occasion to call on Oswald. 

“Hi honey. Here to celebrate our one week anniversary?”

It seemed for a moment that Jim would turn right around and leave again, but he didn’t. 

Oswald noticed absently that there was a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“I got suspended.”

“Tragic. I’m afraid your Captain Barnes is beyond my abilities of persuasion, though. Is that all?”

“No. I mean, that’s not what I mean. I got suspended for marrying you, and people are also trying to kill me because I’m married to you.”

“It’s silly to think that life doesn’t change after marriage, Jim. So, what are you here for?”

Jim’s face got very red for a moment and Oswald was nearly positive he was about to storm out of the room without explaining himself. He actually winced as he forced his words out.

“I need to move in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you not to take this story too seriously, eheh...Let me know what you think! =)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is cohabitation.

Oswald stared at Jim for a long time. He wasn’t even sure he was blinking. He wasn’t even sure he was awake. Jim looked increasingly uncomfortable and the host in Oswald considered offering him a glass of water. He ended up just opening his mouth and closing it again.

“Cobblepot?” In addition to frustrated Jim actually sounded a bit concerned.

“You want to move in? What, here? With me?” Oswald snapped back to his senses.

“Because of the assassins, yeah.” Oswald could read on Jim’s face that he wanted to correct that ‘want’ to ‘need’ – he was really so transparent.

It did make sense now that Oswald thought about it. If it looked like their marriage was real then Oswald would be free to punish anyone who threatened his husband. That would deter a lot of potential assassins. Oswald could even retroactively find out who had made the attempt on Jim’s life that morning and destroy him. 

Oswald still had trouble believing Jim was willing to move in with him, even if it was potentially a matter of life and death. It wasn’t as if there were no other options. Jim could have left town temporarily, or asked for Oswald’s help in staging a public meeting or two to make their relationship look legitimate. They could even have had a terrible fight in front of the right people so nobody would think killing Jim would bother Oswald at all. Oswald made none of these suggestions to Jim. 

“I understand, Jim, and of course I would be happy to accommodate a request like this from such a good friend. I will, however, need something in return.” As the initial shock wore off Oswald found himself rather enjoying the whole thing – the conversation because of the opportunity to tease Jim and the plan itself because it meant he’d have Jim in his home for three weeks. Like the wedding itself it would hurt in the long run, but the short term pleasure was too sweet to resist. 

“What?” Jim seemed more annoyed than surprised. He was also clearly wary, as if Oswald were about to ask something awful of him (well, he supposed that their agreements did tend to have a body count).

“I’ll need you to phrase it as more of a question, to start.”

“…What?”

“And make sure to ask nicely, too.”

Jim glared and looked like he wanted to hit someone, probably Oswald, but after a moment he started talking.

“Can I move in?”

“Please.” 

“Please, Cobblepot, can –“

“Oswald, while you’re staying here.” 

“ _Oswald_ , can I _please_ sleep on your couch for a few weeks?”

“I do love it when you use my first name.” Oswald smiled as Jim scowled and relaxed back in his chair. “And no, silly, you can’t.”

Jim’s face flooded with red and he opened his mouth as if he would start yelling.

“I have a guest room.” Oswald continued after a pause, giggling. 

Jim let out a relieved breath, and Oswald realized that despite the expectant attitude he had displayed when he first arrived Jim had actually thought there was a good chance he would be turned away. On one hand it was gratifying; others may think Jim was a weakness for Oswald, but Jim did not. On the other hand, Jim thought there was a chance he could ask something like this of Oswald – something personal where the main impact on Oswald was that he would get to see Jim more often – and be denied. Oswald knew that was a good thing, but it wasn’t what he wanted.

“You’re always welcome here, Jim.” Oswald said seriously, with none of the teasing edge he had been using previously. 

“…Yeah. Thanks.” There was actually a bit of gratitude in Jim’s voice, and that was almost more unbelievable than his asking to stay.

Oswald beamed. “The guest room is the first room on your right when you go upstairs.”

Jim nodded and turned to leave.

“Oh, and Jim? Dinner’s always at 7, barring unique circumstances. We should take our meals together as much as possible if this is to be believable.” Oswald added this in part because it was true, and in part because he wanted to make sure he got to spend some time with Jim while he was living with him. Jim paused in the doorway for a moment, but went upstairs without replying. 

At seven he came down for dinner.

-

Jim had expected that living with Cobblepot would be awkward at best, and at worst impossible because of the amount of torture and other bloody deeds that probably went on in his house. It was neither of those things.

Dinner the first night had certainly started off awkward for Jim. He had expected Cobblepot to be smug about Jim needing his help and really having no choice but to feign closeness with him. Oswald hadn’t been smug about that, though. He had been smug about Jim liking the sauce he hadn’t initially wanted to try. He had even been smug at the end of their meal when Jim realized they had been together for an hour rather than the fifteen minutes or so Jim had intended to stay for. He had not, however, been smug about Jim’s being there. On that count he was just happy. 

When Jim had first entered the room Oswald had lit up in much the same way as he used to when Jim would need to visit his club. That look had always made him uncomfortable, but he remembered that it had resurfaced while they’d been drinking and at the time he had felt like he’d missed it. Sober now, he had allowed the thought that perhaps he really had, but he did not examine it any more closely than that. It didn’t mean he was not also uncomfortable.

Oswald had sent away the men who Jim supposed usually lingered in the room while their boss ate, and that had helped. Then rather than stewing over the larger situation, or the implications of things like having missed Oswald’s smile, Jim had allowed Oswald to coax him into a conversation about current events. Oswald was informed and insightful, which were both traits Jim had already known he possessed but which he was unused to seeing him apply to anything besides his criminal ambitions. He was surprised to find himself enjoying Oswald’s wit since it was something he usually regarded as dangerous. 

So the meal which Jim had intended to be quick and mostly for the benefit of the lackeys Oswald always had hanging around the house had ended up being…nice. So had dinner on Tuesday evening, and breakfast on Wednesday. By Friday it had become routine to have two meals a day with Oswald, and for them to spend well over an hour on dinner. 

As for Jim’s days, they were much as they always had been. He left after breakfast and met up with Harvey to work on their case. Harvey found this ridiculous (“You could be on vacation right now, you know?”), and Oswald seemed to find it endearing. Most days Jim ways gone for most of the day so he didn’t witness any particularly graphic crime. He knew it was happening, of course; he was a detective. He held on to that knowledge as tightly as he could, especially during moments when his thinking regarding Oswald threatened to become fond. 

For example on Friday night dinner lasted the longest it had yet. It was past ten and they had finished eating a long time ago, but Jim hadn’t thought at all about going upstairs. Their conversation most nights had been light and unrelated to their personal lives, but that night they had started off trading Nygma stories somehow ended up talking about their childhoods and families. Part of Jim felt like maybe he shouldn’t be sharing so much of himself with Oswald, but it was hard to stop when the other man was being so open in return. 

Then Gabe had come to tell Oswald he was needed for something to do with ‘the Hanson thing’. Jim had been disappointed, but had reminded himself that it was good that they were interrupted. He could let himself enjoy, and even look forward to, these evening talks in the name of getting through the next few weeks. The situation was so ridiculous that it was like nothing that happened during it counted. Deeply personal conversation stretching late into the night was probably stretching the limits of that, though. 

“Well, that sounds like something you don’t want me to hear about.” The name ‘Hanson’ run a faint bell in Jim’s head as belonging to a low level gangster involved in an illegal gambling case Alvarez was working.

“Oh, I’ve bought Mr. Hanson a puppy is all. Shh, it’s a surprise.”

“I’m sure.” Jim laughed before he could stop himself and judged himself immediately. Oswald was definitely not about to give Hanson a puppy.

Oswald looked elated at having made Jim laugh. Jim supposed that although from his perspective he had started to relax too much around Oswald from the outside he probably still seemed very gruff. Oswald had stood and walked the short length of the room with Jim, then out into the foyer. Jim turned to head upstairs, and Gabe was probably waiting out in the car for Oswald. Oswald didn’t head outside right away, though, and instead stopped Jim with a hand on his arm. 

Jim turned back towards him and found they were very much in each other’s personal space. He didn’t move. Oswald was quiet for a moment, studying Jim’s face as his hand trailed down his arm to brush against Jim’s own. Jim’s instinct was to clasp Oswald’s hand, but he caught himself before he did. 

“Tomorrow’s Saturday. I was thinking I may take the day off and spend the afternoon out in the country. Perhaps you’d like to join me?”

‘Yes’ was on the tip of Jim’s tongue. Yes, he did want to spend Saturday relaxing in the country with Oswald. He could not, in fact, think of anything he would rather do. He saw a crystal clear vision of himself smiling and saying ‘I’d love to’ before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Oswald’s lips. He was in careful enough control not to actually do it. Jim should not want something like that with someone like Oswald Cobblepot. Cobblepot was almost definitely on his way to do something terrible. It was disgusting that Jim had even entertained the thought. His time under the same roof as Cobblepot must be messing with his head. Of course he didn’t really want those things. 

“I need to keep working this Classifieds case, so…” Jim remembered as Oswald’s face fell that he had told him earlier about the case and how the killer never struck on weekends. Oswald probably wouldn’t have bought the excuse anyways, and really Jim shouldn’t care. However, it was beyond even his powers of denial to tell himself he didn’t as Oswald walked away looking rejected.

-

Oswald left his home feeling like a fool. He had given up on Jim ever even liking him months ago and it took less than a week of pleasant chats to fill him with false hope again. It was even worse this time. Even when he used to think he and Jim could be friends, he had never entertained the thought that Jim could be romantically interested in him. 

Jim had always seemed to care so much about pretty much everyone. When he was new to the city that had included scheming umbrella boys. Oswald had been enthralled. Jim liked to pretend he was superhuman and although Oswald knew that was far from true there was also a way in which he bought into it. Even as Jim began to make compromises there was a way in which he was more of an ideal than a person. That had stopped Oswald from ever thinking of Jim as in any way attainable.

On the night they had gotten married Oswald had gotten a peak at the flawed specimen propping that ideal up and he had been beautiful. Oswald had always been able to steal glimpses of the man trapped in the shining armor, but only because his powers of perception were considerable. He had never actually been shown that side of Jim before. Now he had had almost a week of his accidental smiles and blunt commentary. Oswald doubted Jim even realized how much he had let Oswald in, or how much he had seemed to enjoy it. 

While they spent time together that week Oswald had let himself be fooled into thinking that maybe Jim actually could come to return his feelings. The ideal obviously couldn’t, but it was the man usually obscured by the ideal he was in love with. That man showed every sign of being interested – seeming to relax for the first time all day every time he sat down to dinner, leaning towards Oswald while they talked, and looking at him with warmth in his expression. Although Oswald had told himself he was prepared for a ‘no’ there was actually a large part of him that had believed Jim would say ‘yes’ to spending Saturday together. 

All things considered it was rather convenient that Oswald was already on his way to slaughter someone. 

Young Mr. Hanson – apprentice enforcer – had been the unfortunate imbecile who had taken the shot at Jim. He had been late that day because he was in hiding after his botched assassination attempt. Such ambitions were certainly more worth his time than video games, it was just too bad he didn’t go about them more intelligently and that he felt like his boss’s spouse was an appropriate target. 

Hanson died bloody that night. Several of Oswald’s lieutenants were gathered to watch, on the pretext that this was a more general meeting and Hanson was just one item on the agenda. Hopefully whoever Hanson’s orders had come from – Oswald doubted the young thug had planned it himself – got the message. So long as Jim was his to protect, his husband, threatening him would always end slowly and graphically. Oswald said as much, without directly accusing anybody of anything. There was only so much time left for pretending, after all, he knew he needed to make the most of it.

The kill didn’t actually make Oswald feel any better the way he had hoped it would, but he was tired enough by the time he got home that he was fairly certain he wouldn’t have trouble sleeping. He regarded his staircase warily for a moment – why were master bedrooms never on the main floor of a townhome? – before sighing heavily and starting to climb. He had made it up the stairs and down the hall before a voice caused him to pause with his hand on the doorknob of his bedroom. 

“Oswald?” Jim was wearing sweatpants as pajama bottoms and nothing as a pajama top. 

“What is it, Jim?” Oswald had worried Jim might ruin this whole situation by trying to ask too much about Oswald’s business, and that was probably what was about to happen. If Oswald examined the situation with the eyes he had been using earlier that evening he could see how somebody might think Jim looked regretful. He didn’t let himself think that, though.

“Did things go, uh, smoothly tonight?” Jim asked as he approached. Oswald scoffed.

“It’s nothing you need concern yourself with, Detective. Good night.” Oswald turned the handle and started to walk into his room, but Jim spoke up again.

“I am…concerned…though.” What did that even mean? Oswald rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to reply, but the words never made it out because there was a Detective Gordon suddenly attached to Oswald’s lips. 

It took Oswald a moment to process what was happening and by then Jim’s tentative kiss had become heated. Oswald wasted no time in joining in. 

Oswald didn’t know what to think about what was happening; it was hard to do much thinking at all. They were on Oswald’s bed before he was fully aware of it, rubbing against each other like horny teenagers. They scrambled out of their clothes – a harder task for Oswald than Jim. Then Jim maneuvered them both so that Oswald was laying with his back to the bed and his legs spread and Jim was grinding down into him. Neither of them lasted long, but Oswald had no complaints. 

He ignored the foreboding voice in his head telling him that this was too sudden and random in favor of enjoying his afterglow. Jim found his pajama pants and cleaned them up before settling down into bed. Oswald curled up against him, smiling.

“Well, that was a surprise.”

“...Yeah.”

This might not mean everything Oswald wanted it to, but it had to at least be the start of something. He fell asleep feeling content and looking forward to the next morning. They would figure this all out then.

When he woke up Jim was gone from both his bed and his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there! Sorry the number of chapters on this kept changing. I tend to underestimate my outlines.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Oswald spend time apart.

It was a sunny Wednesday afternoon, days after Jim had shoved his things back into his duffle bag and moved out of Cobblepot’s house. He had been staying in a motel since then, which was where he and Harvey were currently meeting to discuss their case. Jim liked to keep busy. There were too many thoughts waiting to pounce on his mind the second it was unoccupied, which was far too much of the time given his suspension. 

“Okay, I’m ready, let’s do this.” Harvey certainly looked determined, although Jim couldn’t guess what about. He was even shaking out his arms like a boxer preparing for a fight.

“Great enthusiasm. He didn’t bite, though.” Jim said dryly, referring to their latest attempt at baiting the Classifieds Killer with a fake ad. Luckily theirs was not the only ad he ignored – none of the ‘missed encounters’ postings from the previous day had been replied to. They would miss a chance at catching their killer, but at least he didn’t have his eye on a new victim.

“No, not that, the other thing. Bring it.”

Jim just gave Harvey an odd look. 

“The ‘crap I boned Penguin’ look you’ve been sporting. Now, I don’t _want_ details, but I’ve been psyching myself up for days now and I’m sure I can handle them. You’re going to tell me what happened before you explode.”

Jim sighed, hating that it was so obvious what had been bothering him. Of course Harvey would be able to guess that something had happened with Cobblepot since Jim had stopped living there, but was it really written all over Jim’s face that they had slept together? Jim considered denying it, but Harvey already seemed positive he was right. 

“We didn’t technically, uh…There was no penet-“

“No! Nope. Changed my mind, no details. Just the basic cable version.”

Jim paused for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I know it shouldn’t have been, but it was…nice.”

“Ouch, just ‘nice’?”

“Not the –“ Jim shook his head. “I meant being there. And I think I gave him the wrong impression.”

“Er, much as I hate to sound like I agree with the little creep, you can’t blame a guy for getting a certain impression after you screw him, regardless of if there was, eh….” Harvey made fingers on his right hand into a circle and poked his left pointer finger through it a couple times. 

Jim coughed awkwardly. “No, that was before.”

“You were worried you’d given Penguin ‘the wrong impression’ and, what, hurt his feelings?” Harvey raised his eyebrows as if that were ridiculous. Jim felt like he should share that opinion, but he didn’t. “So then to let him down gently you slept with him?”

“That wasn’t exactly planned.”

“Had you been drinking again?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“…I don’t know.”

“Seriously, Jim?”

“I was just waiting to talk to him, but then…” Jim sighed and tried to sort through what exactly had happened. “I don’t know. Staying there was messing with my head. Anyways, we need to find a way to be more proactive about this case.” 

Jim reached for one of the many newspapers that were strewn across the table, but Harvey snatched it away. 

“I think I’m your friend, but I’m really just enabling you, aren’t I?”

“That sounds an awful lot like Scottie.” Jim frowned. 

“Yeah, well, some of us are capable of functioning relationships.” Harvey sighed as he gathered up all of the papers. He paused before he actually left. “Listen, Jim, just think would you? You don’t have to act on anything you come up with – might even be better that you don’t – but you need to at least know yourself.”

-

“What did the Australian say to the waiter?”

Oswald stared blankly at Ed over the chessboard. 

“Is that look a commentary on how that wasn’t even really a riddle – I agree, it was beneath me – or did you actually not get it in addition to not noticing you lost? In record time. I’m disappointed.” Ed really did seem worried. After Jim moved out the forensic specialist had practically moved in. It seemed like he planned on stopping by every day until he was convinced Oswald was feeling better. Part of Oswald wanted to be irritated, insist he was fine, and send him away. Most of Oswald was fond of having someone to vent at/whine to. In truth he was not ‘fine’ and it was good to have a friend care about that for a change. 

Oswald had not been surprised to wake up alone after his and Jim’s night together. Hurt? Yes. Angry? Very much. Disappointed? Despite his best efforts. He was not surprised, however, because this was what Jim did. He started things with Oswald – asked for favors, asked for his hand, came into his bed – and then he backed out. He was a man of action without any ability to follow through. 

Oswald used to think that the connection he felt with Jim was all in his own head. Even that evening, after Jim had turned down his invitation to spend Saturday together, Oswald had thought he had somehow misread the man. Jim was not a hard read, though. Jim had enjoyed his company that week and the attraction between them was mutually felt. Jim wanted him. Jim likely harbored some degree of romantic feeling for him. He ran away anyways.

That was what made Oswald angriest. 

There was a part of him that wanted to punish Jim in some way. He could not take back the protection his demonstration with Mr. Hanson had afforded Jim now without losing credibility with those lieutenants he had put on notice, but maybe he could arrange for it to seem like he had? Another failed assassination, just to rattle him? He would not need to risk his reputation over it by involving any of his men, Ed would probably be happy to help…

No. He would not do that to Jim. As much as the vindictive side of him wanted vengeance on Jim, he also really didn’t want to put Jim through any of the things that vengeance would entail. He wanted to hurt Jim, but he didn’t want Jim to be hurt. It was not often Oswald was at odds with his vindictive side.

Oswald spent the week barking orders at his subordinates, ranting to Ed, and looking at everyone who crossed his path as if he were planning on bludgeoning them with the nearest blunt object (he only actually bludgeoned one person). When Ed wasn’t there to distract him he focused on his anger as much as possible. It worked as a distraction as well, a distraction from the fact that things were far more hopeless than he had ever realized. Thinking that Jim could never feel for him was so much better than knowing he did and that it just didn’t matter. No physical attraction or emotional connection would ever really make him important to Jim. 

“Sorry to disappoint. I’ll be a better opponent next time.” Oswald sighed. While he had been able to mostly distract himself from his dejection at being abandoned by Jim that day – exactly one week since their night together – had been harder. That morning he had finally thrown away his wedding ring and filled out all of the annulment paperwork. All Jim had to do was sign, but Oswald did not particularly relish having to see him to get the signature. Or for Jim got come storming in once the judge was back in town demanding the paperwork. “…do you think you could do me a favor?”

“Does your body keep digesting food after you’re dead?” Ed smiled. 

“Thanks Ed.” He’d learnt it was best to just pretend he knew what his odd friend was talking about.

-

Jim knew he had some kind of thing for Cobblepot. It wasn’t a grand mystery that required a lot of personal reflection to figure out. He had liked seeing him every day and he had initiated sex. Oh, and he had proposed marriage to him. Of course some twisted part of him must be interested in the criminal. He had been in active denial about it before, active being the key word. There was a way in which he had always known he was guilty of having warped feelings for The Penguin, but no good came of acknowledging them, even to himself. He couldn’t want Oswald, so it didn’t really matter if he did anyways. 

The fact that he was attracted to Cobblepot jumped out of the shadows of Jim’s mind the second he allowed it to, which was less than half an hour after Harvey left his motel room. He was more than a little disgusted with himself. Cobblepot had probably just come from murdering someone when Jim had slept with him. Maybe Harvey had had a small point about Jim’s needing to think about this to know himself better. Now that he had acknowledged what the problem was he would be able to make sure it didn’t lead him to any more mistakes in the future.

He spent the rest of the day after he came to that conclusion trying not to cry because it was just a stupid crush that was extremely inappropriate on his part. That was Wednesday. Thursday he actually did cry because he couldn’t stop thinking about how Oswald might have reacted to waking up alone. He told himself that this was just a stupid crush for Oswald too and that he’d be glad in the long run not to have any attachment to Jim, but it didn’t feel true. He also couldn’t understand why he was reacting this badly to the whole thing. He was a grown man and base attraction should not feel this important.

Friday was spent numbly staring at the small, fuzzy, screen of the motel tv. He was only half aware of the talk shows and soap operas as they played. He wanted to go see Oswald. He wanted to see that he was okay. Or, he wanted to see that he wasn’t okay. He wanted Oswald to scream and throw things at him. He wanted to let him. He wanted to apologize. He had nothing to be sorry for, though, did he? In ninety-nine out of one hundred cases it might be wrong to walk out on someone in the middle of the night, but surely the rules were different if your lover was both a cold blooded criminal and the king of his kind. Nothing good would come of his going to see Oswald. It would only drag things out that needed to be over. 

It was around ten pm on Friday when there was a knock at the door and Jim, assuming it was housekeeping, peeled himself off of the couch and went to answer it with the duvet from his bed draped over his shoulders. He hadn’t showered, shaved, or given a second thought to his hair since Wednesday. 

Ed Nygma took in his disheveled state with an extremely satisfied smirk. He didn’t say anything to Jim, but Jim felt sure he was going to say quite a bit about it to Cobblepot. 

“Hello Detective Gordon.”

“Hey…”

“Can I come in?” Jim wanted to say ‘no’, but Nygma had already flashed him a pleasant smile and continued past him into the motel room.

“Detective Bullock doesn’t want to risk the captain assigning him a new partner so he’s insisting he can handle the Classifieds case himself. Really he just has me watching the newspapers now, and writing the ads.”

“Right. Thanks for picking up the slack, Ed.” Maybe Nygma was just there about work. 

“It’s no problem!” Nygma’s gaze traveled around the room, which was in a similar state to Jim himself. “I was just thinking that I might be tempted to do something about the state of this place, if I weren’t already cleaning up so many of your other messes.”

No, this was not going to be a painless chat about work. Jim wasn’t entirely sure what to say to Nygma so he just waited. They had somehow ended up making eye contact, which was extremely uncomfortable. Ed wasn’t looking away, and Jim got this strange feeling that it would be taken as a sign of weakness if he did. After a few moments Ed gave an odd little laugh and sat down at the table. He gestured for Jim to join him and Jim did only because he realized standing didn’t make him look any more dignified or intimidating while he was wearing a blanket and boxer shorts.

“Mr. Penguin requested that I deliver these to you.” Ed had brought a file folder with him and took a stack of papers out of it. “It is all the paperwork for your annulment, and everything has been filled out aside from your signature. This,” Nygma pulled an envelope from the folder. “is a letter to the judge explaining what he should do. Mr. Penguin would appreciate it if you would handle the rest yourself and refrain from contacting him.” 

Jim stopped breathing for a moment.

“Detective Gordon?”

“Right, yeah, I’ll…handle it. Fine. That everything?”

“No.” Ed smiled widely. He seemed to really be enjoying seeing Jim like this. “Having a bird is a big commitment, you know. They’re very emotional. If you leave them alone for too long they’ll start tearing out their feathers.”

“Is it the ice cream thing?” Jim remembered the threat, although he found he didn’t particularly care about it. He doubted Ed actually had it in him to do anything too bad, and even if he did Jim just…didn’t care. 

“Oh no, we’re not there quite yet. See, Detective Gordon, even before Detective Bullock made it part of my job I always read the paper. Classifieds and all. You’re lucky our feathered friend skips them.” Ed pulled out the last of what was in his folder – a stack of newspaper clippings from the Classifieds case. 

“The case? Why would you do anything to help me? He’s your best friend.”

“He is. But I know what it’s like to be at odds with yourself, so I’m giving you another chance.”

Jim just blinked as Nygma stood to leave, smiling and pausing to pet Jim’s shoulder as he passed. 

“Wait, Ed!” Jim stood suddenly just as Ed was about to close the door behind him. The scientist poked his head back in the door. “…How is he?”

“Goodbye Detective Gordon.” 

After Nygma was gone Jim slumped back in his chair and turned his attention to the newspaper clippings. He could not imagine how the Classifieds Killer case could be related to what had been happening between him and Oswald. It turned out that the clippings he’d brought weren’t even anything that could help him work the case. It was all the fake ads he and Harvey had posted with none of the responses the killer had written. As Jim flipped through them he realized that it wasn’t even the responses he _and_ Harvey had written, they were all from days where it had been his turn. 

Jim had never put any thought into writing the ads. As he started reading his own writing he realized his thoughtlessness had had one very obvious result; all of the ads were about the same person. The fake missed encounters were always with somebody with black hair and green eyes, somebody often described as brilliant, and somebody who the ad poster was obviously, desperately, in love with even when the ads did not explicitly say it. 

_… you had an inappropriately bright smile for the situation. I was fascinated…._

_…your eyes are this pale green colour I’ve never seen before. When they met mine I never wanted to look away…._

_…I noticed you have freckles. They’re really cute..._

_…you looked so shy, and so hopeful. I’m sorry if I didn’t seem like I had time for you…_

_…Even when you’re scheming you’re beautiful…_

_…you’re gorgeous at night. It’s like you clash with the world all day and then the sun sets and everything just falls in line with you…_

_…kissing you was everything, I’d never wanted someone so badly…_

Jim stopped reading. How had Harvey not noticed? Well, he realized, Harvey must have noticed. That was probably a big part of why he had immediately believed that Jim was capable of getting drunk and marrying The Penguin, and why he thought Jim needed to do some reflecting. It may have also had something to do with the one he had been writing before Harvey had left on Wednesday, the one where he’d needed Harvey to confirm that ‘missed encounters’ could reference one night stands…Jim found the half-written ad scribbled on a post-it among the newspaper clippings.

_…I could see you giving up on us and I had to stop you, so I did. You look like you’re all sharp edges, but when I touch you you’re so soft…_

Jim had told himself he had waited up for Oswald that night because of how Oswald had gotten the ‘wrong’ impression that week. They’d needed to talk about that. Of course, looking back, if that had really been the case there was no way in hell that Jim would have ever wanted to talk about it. Really, he just hadn’t been able to do anything after Oswald left except think about how disappointed he had looked and how terrible it felt to have caused that. His intention when he had first approached Oswald in the hallway really had been to talk, although it was a mystery to Jim now what he had thought they were going to talk about. 

The thing that had made him act was how obvious it was that Oswald no longer thought there was a chance for anything to happen between them. During their dinner chat that night Oswald had had hope, had looked at Jim with affection, but when he came home that night Oswald had probably already decided he was finished with all that. It wasn’t even that Oswald was angry with Jim or anything, he had just given up on him. In hindsight, Jim was able to identify the emotion that had spurred him to kiss Oswald so franticly as panic. He was losing him and he needed to get him back. And he had. And then he had run off in the middle of the night and probably crushed any hope or feelings Oswald had had for him forever. 

He had run because getting romantically involved with ‘the king of Gotham’ was a terrible idea. Both as a police officer and a human who valued the lives of other humans Jim knew that to be true. The realization that his feelings for Oswald ran far deeper than he had previously been willing to admit to himself – that he had pretty much been publishing short love letters to Oswald 2 or 3 times a week for a while now – did not change that. It might feel like it did, but obviously it couldn’t. 

Even if it did, Oswald probably hated him now. That fact, and the knowledge that he deserved it, cut Jim deeper than the knowledge that he was capable of having these feelings for a crime lord. That felt wrong, but Jim resisted the urge to write it off as untrue. Wrong or right, he felt the way he felt. 

The degree to which what he felt was unknown to him was disturbing. Harvey was right; he didn’t know himself. He didn’t know if he should try to fix things with Oswald, or what he wanted his life to look like a year from now, or even if he should go back to work when Barnes let him. He did know he wanted to be a good cop, but how good a cop could he be while he was feeling this remorseful about hurting one of law enforcement’s main enemies? It was a massive conflict of interest. 

Jim had a lot of thinking to do.

-

“How did he look?”

“What has wheels and flies, but isn’t a plane?”

A garbage truck. “That bad?”

“Worse! I was describing what may have hit him.” Ed seemed positively jovial, and Oswald couldn’t help a small smile of his own. As much as he still cared for Jim he did not want to, and it was satisfying knowing Jim’s own actions had hurt him too. 

Over the next few weeks things got easier. The whole Jim Gordon situation became a lot like his leg – it never really got better, but he learnt to manage it. He could ignore it and focus on other things. Ed stopped hovering, apparently satisfied that Oswald was becoming capable of being alone without spending every second agonizing over Jim. 

There was even a way in which he started to take a twisted kind of pleasure in the parts of it that still made him angry. That Jim wanted him and wouldn’t do anything about it was frustrating, but it had to be frustrating for Jim too. It wasn’t as if Jim was only a little attracted to Oswald, after all. It had apparently built up to the point where he couldn’t stop himself from randomly jumping him one night. So, on nights when Oswald had trouble falling asleep because he wished Jim were next to him, he reminded himself that Jim was probably having trouble sleeping too. He was out there somewhere probably tortured by how badly he wanted Oswald and unable to do anything about it because he was standing in his own way. 

Oswald knew he wasn’t actually capable of ignoring Jim’s existence like he probably should, so he made sure he got status reports on him. He heard about it when Jim went back to work, which surely meant they were both bachelors again and that Captain Barnes had never found out about where Jim had been living for a week. He heard that Jim never got back together with Dr. Thompkins, or even seemed to try to. He heard that he got his own place, went out on weekends with Bullock and his fiancé, and rededicated himself to helping the young billionaire uncover the truth about what had happened to his parents. He realized one day, exactly two months after Jim had run away from him, that he probably wasn’t still torturing himself over Oswald the way Oswald still sometimes tortured himself over Jim. From the outside, Jim was doing well. 

Angry, Oswald decided he needed to try harder to put Jim out of his mind. He would stop asking for updates. It was only two days later that Jim was once again standing in his dining room. 

-

“Hello Detective. What can I do for the GCPD today?” Oswald’s smile was tight and Jim was surprised he was bothering with the pretense at all. He was actually surprised he had been allowed in. He had half expected that Gabe had standing orders to deck him if he set foot on Oswald’s stoop. The large mobster had certainly looked like he wanted to.  
“Nothing. I’m not here on police business.” 

“I see. Well then, detective, you must be very confused. You could not possibly have business of any other nature here. It’s probably for the best that you get going.”

“No. I mean, yeah, if you want, but –“

“I do, Jim. I want that very much. Get out.” 

“Once you said I was always welcome here.” Jim had not meant anything by that, but the intensely dark look that overtook Oswald’s face when he said it told him he had better rush past it. “Fine, alright, just…” 

Jim wanted to insist on staying put and saying everything he had come to say, but he knew that if he was going to rebuild any kind of bridge with Oswald he needed to start with respect. That meant listening when he was told to get out of Oswald’s house. He wasn’t going to give up on what he had decided, he just knew it might require more patience then he was generally capable of. He turned to go, but could not help pausing in the doorway and turning back to say just one of the many things he had wanted to.

“I’m sorry, Oswald. I abandoned you, I abandoned _us_. I did _this_ to us, and I’m sorry.” Oswald’s hard stare seemed to waver, although he didn’t look any less angry. Just less in control of it. “I want to try to make it right, but I understand if you don’t want to give me that chance… I’ll go now.” 

Oswald made an angry noise that was something like a growl. There was a wine glass in his hand that was very suddenly shattered across the floor. “No. No, Jim Gordon, you do not get to walk into my home and play the white knight. You do not get to apologize to me just because you know it’s the ‘right’ thing. What kind of amends do you want to make to me? I don't think you really regret a second of it."

 

“Damnit Oswald, if I could go back and change it I would never have slept with you in the first place. I would never have stayed here either, never have asked you to marry me.” Jim had only taken one step back into the room when he heard an unpleasant, yelp-like, sound escape from Oswald and rushed back towards him. Angry as Oswald clearly was it was also clearly covering up quite a lot of pain. Jim felt a stab of self-loathing, as he often did when he thought about how his actions had affected Oswald. “No, god Oswald, that’s not what I mean.” Oswald seemed disinclined to look up at Jim, so he dropped to his knees in front of the other man’s chair in order to look him in the eyes. “I do regret it all, but not because of…this.” He took Oswald’s hands in his own and squeezed. “I mean, I won’t deny that –“

“You want me? I picked up on that a while ago, when we were naked in bed together. I’m clever like that.” Oswald was back to looking closed off and unaffected, but he wasn’t pulling his hands away from Jim’s. Jim decided it was time to put all his cards on the table and just let Oswald react however he was going to. If he threw Jim out and told him never to come back then that would just be something he had to deal with. 

“I _love_ you, Oswald. You are the love of my life.” 

-

Oswald’s eyes widened and his hands started to shake. He believed Jim instantly, and he was elated, but he was also terrified because he should not be trusting Jim this easily again. It tended to end badly for him. 

Jim gripped his hands tighter, pulled them towards himself, and kissed his knuckles. Then he made eye contact and did not break it. “I married you because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, I came here when I could have figured something else out because I wanted to be near you, and I slept with you because I was terrified that you had given up on me. I regret it all because I never bothered to consider why I was doing anything I was doing. If I had before we spent the night together it could have meant something. If I had before I asked to stay here then maybe it wouldn’t have been a pretense.” 

“And the wedding?” Oswald’s voice was barely above a whisper. He pulled one of his hands out of Jim’s grip to trace the edge of his jaw. 

“I wouldn’t have asked, not yet. Someday, though. Somewhere that didn’t smell like urine. Maybe the ceremony could have been during the day. Not that I’m fussy.”

“It would have been inside, but not a church or a hall. We’d rent a mansion on the outskirts of the city for the day. There would have been lilies in our centerpieces, and we would definitely have an ice sculpture. You would have worn blue.” Oswald mused, willing his heartbeat to even out. “I am rather fussy.” 

“I know. I would have stayed out of the planning.” Jim smiled tentatively, as if he were expecting Oswald to shut him down and send him away at any moment. Part of Oswald wished his fears were more justified, but mostly he just wanted this. He had wanted this for so long. “…I still hope we might have that, someday. Renew our vows, or whatever they call it.”

Oswald agreed, but not verbally. Or he did until he gave the last part a second thought. “Jim, _dearest_ , are we still married?”

Jim winced. “Uh, yeah, about that…”

“You are a ridiculous man.” Oswald declared before sliding the hand that had still been tracing the edge of Jim’s face to the back of his head and pulling him in for a deep kiss. Jim kissed him back enthusiastically, but seemed to let Oswald take the lead. He was there to prostrate himself before Oswald and beg forgiveness, after all. That thought caused Oswald to break the kiss with a giggle. 

He leaned his forehead against Jim’s and smiled. “Well, it’s probably for the best that you can’t be compelled to testify against me. I suppose I can stay married to you for convenience sake.” 

“I didn’t get around to it, but I still can. I know this isn’t really ideal.” Jim was smiling softly, but he still didn’t really seem to think that he was out of the doghouse. Good.

“Heavens no, I wouldn’t ask that of you. You’re so clearly head over heels for me it might actually break your heart.”

Jim snorted a laugh and looked at Oswald oddly, sitting up higher on his knees and wrapping his arms around Oswald’s shoulders. “Really Oz?”

“Really. You’re so disgustingly smitten I think I may be suffering from contact embarrassment.” 

Oswald expected Jim to roll his eyes at the obvious teasing, but he didn’t. He just grinned.

“Do you really mind?” Oswald’s heart skipped a beat.

“…No. No Jim, but this seems sudden, like everything else. It feels real, it’s not the first time it has.”

-

“It’s not sudden. Not at all. This has been in the works since I met you,” Later, when there was less weight being placed on the conversation, Jim would explain to Oswald what he had been doing since he left him. He had done a lot of reflecting, he had learnt a lot about himself, and he had gotten his life back in order. He had known since very early on in his journey to self-acceptance that he wanted to be with Oswald for real, permanently, but he had also realized that he was a mess and he needed to sort that out before pursuing anything romantic. “I finally know what I want, and this is it. We’re it.”

“You can’t, even if you do, you still can’t…I’m a criminal, Jim. And I’m very proud of how well it has served me, and I am never going to change.” Oswald sounded more like he was trying to keep his expectations low than anything else. Jim realized that he was convinced, but that maybe he didn’t want to be.

“I know. I’m not as bothered as I probably should be. I think that’s been a big part of the problem the whole time.”

“Not as bothered as you should be, but still bothered?”

“…I don’t know how it’s going to work, Oswald, but I’m going to make it.” Jim sighed, wishing he had a more concrete plan. Oswald was quiet for a moment, and then he shook his head. Jim was momentarily terrified.

“So woefully smitten. You poor lovelorn creature. Well, come on then, I know you must be dying to kiss me again.”

Jim really was.

-

Oswald took Jim to bed that night, after a lovely dinner and a long conversation. Jim had had some rather interesting newspaper clippings to show him and he planned to pursue the ads more leisurely another time. That particular evening he had a remorseful, compliant, Jim Gordon looking at him with the same adoration Oswald knew had been embarrassingly plain on his own face for a long time. He had had a lot of fantasies involving a remorseful, compliant, Jim Gordon and he was rather eager to act some of them out. 

When he woke in the morning Jim was still slumbering peacefully on the pillow next to him, right where he belonged. Right where he now understood that he belonged. Oswald yawned and snuggled up close to his sleeping lover, who instinctively wrapped him up in a bear hug. He drifted back to sleep with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Thanks for sticking with this story! Let me know what you think~

**Author's Note:**

> This concept is so cliché, but I couldn't help it! It's probably best not to take this fic too seriously, eheh...Hope you enjoy it!


End file.
